


Mirror Image

by deathishauntedbyhumans



Category: Scooby Doo! Mystery Incorporated (TV 2010)
Genre: Dissociation, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/F, Fake Science, Future Fic, Implied Post Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Mirrors, Post-Canon, Symbolism, Wordcount: 100-1.000, headcanons galore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-05-31 17:54:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19431103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathishauntedbyhumans/pseuds/deathishauntedbyhumans
Summary: Living a life that both is and isn’t your own takes its toll on your mental health.





	Mirror Image

**Author's Note:**

> Hdkgjslgjslf I don’t know where this came from???
> 
> I’ve had Stacked Like Pancakes’ _Romeo and Juliet_ stuck in my head the entire time I’ve been writing this. 
> 
> Takes place sometime in the ~future~ which, theoretically, would be after the gang went to Miskatonic University to study under Harlan Ellison and then came back to Crystal Cove again when they were done.

“Hey V, I was thinking we could go pick up the batteries for the molecular inhibitor tomorrow morning—“

The sound of the front door of their shared apartment opening was enough to make Velma blink herself back to the present, but she didn’t turn away from her reflection in the mirror.

“V?”

Velma touched one of her curls, tracing over it carefully, up to the bow in her hair. “I’m in here, Marcie.”

Something thudding to the floor in their little kitchenette made Velma’s fingers tremble. The bow was knocked askew.

Marcie slipped into the bathroom moments later, her reflection appearing beside Velma’s in the mirror. She wrapped her arms around Velma’s stomach, and Velma continued to stare, transfixed, as the Marcie in the mirror met her gaze.

“You okay, V?”

 _Concern_. _Worry_. _Affection_. Velma categorised the emotions distantly, filing them away somewhere in her mind where they wouldn’t distract her from her current contemplation. Despite that, though, she _did_ lean into Marcie’s touch, back pressing gently into the familiar comforting warmth.

The reflections watched them warily. Marcie reached up with one hand to fix Velma’s bow.

“I’m not sure,” Velma murmured absently. Deft fingers combed through her hair, and she watched them intently, squinting beneath her glasses. “It’s been an off day.”

The bow was straight, now. Marcie tucked her hand back underneath her other one, firmly holding onto Velma once more. Their reflections were silent.

“Is there anything I can do?”

Velma tilted her head slightly, staring herself down in the mirror, and Marcie took the opportunity to nuzzle her nose in against the side of her neck. It was a pleasant feeling, she categorised in that same distant place. Pleasant and soft. _Sweet_.

“I don’t think so.” Without breaking eye contact with her mirror image, Velma slid one of her hands in between both of Marcie’s. “I’m glad you’re home.”

Marcie squeezed her hand. _Affection._ Pleasant and soft and sweet. “Me, too. Traffic was awful.”

Velma only hummed in response. Marcie didn’t press the subject, for which she was grateful: after years of living together, of _being_ together, Marcie knew her and her quirks like the back of her hand.

And Velma knew Marcie, too, even on the days that nothing felt real. Days like today, when the reflection in the mirror felt a little more _off_ than it should have.

“Got a text from Daphne earlier,” Velma murmured after a beat of silence, focusing on her mouth in the mirror. Her voice sounded foreign to her own ears. “She was craving pickles.”

Marcie snorted. Velma could feel a puff of warm air against her neck. _Pleasant._ “Daphne hates pickles.”

Velma would have shrugged if moving didn’t make her feel so sluggish. “Pregnancy is weird.” There was a scientific explanation for it, of course, but _she_ knew it, and she also know that _Marcie_ knew it, and right at the moment, she had next to no energy to get into it. So the simplistic statement would have to do.

This time, it was Marcie who hummed. The vibration of her lips against Velma’s skin was remarkably comforting. “That it is, V. Want me to get dinner started?”

Oh, right. Food. Now that it was being mentioned, Velma… couldn’t remember the last time she’d actually eaten. “Thank you.”

Soft lips pressed against Velma’s neck with purpose. “Alright. You wanna stay in here, or come join me?” There was no judgement or anger or annoyance or anything Velma might have once expected to hear in such a question. Marcie simply asked questions to receive answers. There was never an ulterior motive… or if there _was,_ Velma always knew.

“I think I’ll stay in here.”

The arms around Velma’s waist retracted, and the warm body pulled away. “Sounds like a plan.” Another kiss, this time pressed to the back of her neck, between two notches of her spine. “I love you.”

Velma let her gaze slide over to the reflection of Marcie, who was smiling at her fondly. “I love you, too.”

When Marcie left the bathroom again, Velma was quick to note that her chest felt lighter than it had been all day. She didn’t feel _good,_ but she did feel _better._

And her reflection, when she peered at it again, didn’t look quite so unfamiliar after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos/comments are love! Come scream at me on tumblr @deathishauntedbyhumans.


End file.
